


Never in a thousand years

by Omeganixtra



Series: a map 'cross the stars [16]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Corridors of Time, F/M, Season of Dawn-snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omeganixtra/pseuds/Omeganixtra
Summary: Something had called to her as she ran through the Corridors of Time that Osiris opened for her.Something that wasn’t Saint-14But never in a thousand years would Meera have guessed where the white, nondescriptive doorways transported her.
Relationships: Cayde-6/Female Guardian (mentioned)
Series: a map 'cross the stars [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312340
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Never in a thousand years

**Author's Note:**

> Look who's super fucking late to the emotional shitstorm that is the Corridors of Time!

Something had called to her as she ran through the Corridors of Time that Osiris opened for her.

Something that wasn’t _Saint-14_

But never in a thousand years would Meera have guessed where the white, nondescriptive doorways transported her.

“What the—Brask, I thought you said there wouldn’t be any other Guardians ‘round these parts!”

Meera freezes.

Behind her she can hear two people scuffle around, both of them drawing closer, but she doesn’t dare turn around right away.

“Hey there, kid!”

It isn’t until then that she dares to peek around the edge of her hood.

The unfamiliar voice belongs to a man, dark of skin and hair, and decked out from top to toe in medium-weighted Hunter armor. Up close she can make out a small scar chipping one cheekbone, creating a small bare patch in an otherwise mostly-even five o’clock shadow dusting his lower face. When looking past the small signs of exhaustion and exasperation that appears mostly, the Guardian in front of her looks utterly unremarkable.

There is only one thing.

The Guardian in front of her is _Andal Brask_.

She is absolutely certain. There is no mistaking the scruff, the scratched-up armor or even the achingly familiar cloak. While she has never seen the man himself, Meera has spent quite some time in the libraries of the Tower—a necessary pastime when one of your friends happen to be both a Warlock and a bookworm—and even more time in the Archives, where much of the information about former Vanguards is stored.

Meera is _not_ equipped for this—not physically and most certainly not emotionally.

Seeing her Vanguard once more, alive and well and _breathing_ , is harder than she wants to admit it is.

Seeing Cayde alive… oh stars, but it kindles that tiny bit of hope that she still has hidden somewhere inside her shriveled up heart.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Andal’s hand feels heavy and grounding as it rests on her shoulder. “You alright, there?”

“Yeah, no—no, it’s just—I-I don’t—” Meera is surprised when she cuts herself off with a wobbly sob. “I—I’m _sorry_!”

Andal and the Cayde who is not quite her own both take a step back in surprise when she bursts into tears, neither of them moving closer as they hover a few feet away from her, both utterly unsure of what to do in the moment.

“Oh, uh—” Cayde awkwardly steps forward, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s, ah, it’s… alright?”

“I-it’s just,” she hiccups and looks up at the Exo, ignoring the screaming voice of her Ghost echoing in her mind. “You’re _alive_ , Cayde.”

“Wait, what are you—”

“Right, that’s enough!”

Meera startles when something small and hard collides with the back of her head. Wincing, she turns to look at her Ghost hanging in the air with quite the furious look in his singular, blue eye.

“It’s time to go, Guardian,” he interrupts Cayde without hesitation. “ _Now_.”

“Hey, you can’t jus—”

“Cayde, I think we should stay out of this one,” Andal stops Cayde from advancing with a firm hand on his shoulder, his face now austere. “Something tells me that would probably be wisest.”

“Guardian, we don’t have time for this,” her Ghost presses and twirls in the air until he is directly in front of Meera’s face, blocking her direct line of vision to Cayde and Andal standing not too far from her. “Osiris gave us a task, and we _need_ to complete it. Getting lost in the past won’t do us any favors, _you know this_.”

“But he’s _alive_ ,” she pleads with the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Both of them are—they’re _alive_ , Ghost!”

“And they will continue to be for quite some time, too, thank you very much,” Cayde snarks from behind her Ghost. “What kind of Ghost are you, spewing out shit like that?”

“One who intends to keep his Guardian safe from making bad ripples in time, that’s who I am.”

“Ghost, please, I just—”

“No, there will not be any ‘just’s or ‘maybe’s or whatever else you’re trying to concoct up there in that head of yours. We. Are. _Leaving_.”

She is still pleading with her Ghost as the world around her flickers in and out of existence, leaving past Mercury behind.

When Osiris asks her why she is already back, if she has found Saint-14, Meera refuses to answer. Instead she stays where she landed, crouched against the floor, shaking.

The past can’t be changed— _she knows that_ —but damn it if she doesn’t wish it could be so.


End file.
